Nightstalker
by Daniel Jennings Please RandR
Summary: The adventures of Glandril, an Albino Elven Monk.


**_Nightstalker_**

_**By Daniel Jennings**_

**_Prologue: Bristledale_**

It is a beautiful spring morning. As the sun peaks over the top of the Snowflake Mountains, illuminating the sky in soft pastel colors. The air is cool and crisp as this region shakes off the last days of a long brutal winter. The sound of songbirds can be heard for the first morning in months as the arrival of spring brings their migration back to their mountain nests.

Nestled into the western face of the mountain, about a mile off the valley floor stands a keep constructed of stone. It is obvious that this ancient keep was constructed by dwarves because it appears to be an extension of the mountain itself. There is debate among modern sages as to who these dwarves were. Where they went and why they abandoned this keep as well as the iron rich mines they inhabited.

For almost 200 years humans have mined these tunnels and a fair size town of nearly 5,000 has settled at the base of this particular mountain, under the watchful eyes of a sect of monks that now inhabit the keep. The people of Bristledale have little contact with these monks except for occasional visits by the monks for supplies. These monks are called Nightstalkers by the townsfolk because they are never seen during daylight hours and venture out every night patrolling the region hunting the many dangerous predatory creatures that might threaten their community.

Even at this early hour the men of Bristledale are already hard at work inside the mines. The sounds of crafting hammers ring out through the morning air as the folk of Bristledale work hard to finish their weapons, armor, tools, and varied assortments of iron wares in time for the trade caravan that will soon be heading south now that the roads are clear of snow. The women are already busy with the chores of the day and the sounds of children laughing and playing can be heard.

Off into the distance there can be heard a slow rumble and the ground shakes. Everyone looks towards the mountain wondering if perhaps their is an avalanche. From this distance it is hard to tell what caused the quake but the whole community stands staring up at the mountain holding their breath...thinking the worst and hoping the best because their husbands, sons, and brothers are up there in the mountain working the mines, and the quake obviously originated from there.

**_Chapter 1: Glandril _**

As he awakes, he realizes that it wasn't a dream, the bed is really shaking. In fact the entire room seems to be violently shaking. He tries to get up. Once again his body betrays him. He can barely muster up enough strength to move his arms. He instinctively reaches for the Strength potion he keeps on the night stand by the bed. It isn't there. He starts to panic, has one of these humans betrayed him again? Then he smells the faint odor of rotting apples. He physically calms himself realizing that the potion fell off the table and shattered onto the floor. The shaking finally stops. He manages to roll himself over onto his side. His room is in shambles.

From this perspective he can now see the pool of liquid on the floor beside the bed from the broken potion. He can see the foot locker against the wall not 10 feet away. There are more potions in there, but that is just too far. He knows he doesn't even have the strength to crawl across the room. He hates this feeling of helplessness that washes over him every morning. He hates this feeble body that is his prison. He hears a soft rapping at his chamber door. "Master Glandril, are you awake?". He doesn't answer for a moment. He hates for these humans he lives among to see him in this condition.

They already look upon him with pity, and treat him like a small child, even though he is much older than any of them. Again, the rapping at the door. "Master Glandril are you all right in there?" "Just a minute." He responds. He gathers his strength and manages to roll over again, falling off the bed and landing on the floor face down. "Master Glandril, are you all right in there? It sounds like you fell."

He can hear the sound of keys jingling outside in the hall. He realizes he only has a moment before the door will swing open. He does the only thing he can. He starts to suck up the potion from the puddle on the floor. Hoping he can get enough of it into his bloodstream to at least get off the floor before the door opens.

No such luck. "Oh my! Master Glandril are you OK?" He can hear the shuffle of feet behind him and the gentle pull of hands as he is helped off the floor and into a sitting position on the bed. "I am fine." Glandril responds. A bit to harshly. Standing over him now are brother Orha and brother Titas. He can see the concerned look on their faces and the pity in their eyes. Glandril takes a deep breath to calm the anger growing inside him. Brother Orha pulls out a pocket rag and begins to wipe the potion off Glandril's face and chin. Glandril quickly slaps away his hand and looks angrily at Orah.

As Glandril feels the artificial strength surging through his blood now he contemplates striking the boy. He thinks better of it and visibly relaxes. The self loathing continues. "Master Glandril. I am sorry. I was just trying to help." Orha whimpers. "Don't you two have chores to do? And why aren't you at practice in the courtyard by now?" Glandril snaps at them. Orha answers a bit sheepishly, "The Grand Master has sent me to summon you to this mornings practice."

Glandril, wondering what is going on, because he hasn't attended the morning practices in almost a decade now answers, "Why?". Orha shrugs, "He didn't reveal his wisdom in this matter to me. I was simply commanded."

Glandril sighs. "Very well. Go and inform the Grand Master that I will be there within the half hour." Both the boys stand there for a moment, obviously concerned with Glandril's present condition. "I said GO!", Glandril shouts, as he jumps to his feet. Both boys nearly trip over themselves running out the door. Glandril smiles, and whispers to himself, "Oh, to be young, strong and healthy."

He slowly walks over to his footlocker and opens it. Inside are his few personal possessions. His formal Robes of the Master he earned over a decade ago. His twin Adamant kukri's he won during the last Tournament he attended, also almost as long ago, A pair of boots, enchanted with haste, a gift from that mysterious Sorcerer whom also supplies him with his strength potions. And his dwindling supply of potions of strength, of which there are only 4 left.

He bends down and picks up one of the potions. He opens it and holds it up to the morning light allowing sunlight to filter through the red liquid, staring at the vial. He hates this stuff. It always makes his stomach nauseous after drinking it. And it tastes absolutely horrid. After a moment, he puts the bottle to his lips and gulps down the entire potion. Shaking his head in disgust, he shatters the bottle against the wall and proceeds to get dressed.

Out of the corner of his eye he sees that his full length mirror has fallen over during the quake. He walks over and stands it back up. Catching a glimpse of himself in the now cracked glass. He stands there for a moment staring at his own reflection. He thinks to himself, "I am truly a freak of nature." He was born with a rare condition. He is an Albino. He stands 5'4", rather tall for an elf, he has been told, although he has never seen one in person. He weighs maybe 80 pounds and his frame is gaunt and skeletal looking. His milky white skin, pink eyes, and totally hairless body make him look like a corpse.

He looks at his reflection through the now broken and useless mirror and he can't help but smile at the irony. He feels broken and useless trapped inside this frail body. Thinking to himself for possibly the thousandth time, "What infernal Deity did I anger in a previous life to be cursed so?" Glandril again sighs, and slowly turns away from the mirror to continue getting dressed. "I don't want to keep the Grand Master waiting." He whispers to himself sarcastically, as he puts on his gray robe, boots and sash. He slips his kukris into his sash and heads out the door headed for the Grand Hall.

As he approaches the double iron doors that lead to the grand hall, he can hear the sounds of combat inside. He stops before the doors and nods to the flanking guards, and waits for them to open the doors. Silently, both guards grab the wrought iron handles and pull the heavy doors open.

The Grand Hall is very large, approximately 40 feet wide and almost 80 feet long. There are pillars lining both sides of the carpeted approach, spaced evenly every 10 feet. At the far end, near the dais where the throne of the Grand Master resides, Glandril sees that all 5 of the master rank brothers are going through their morning sparing practices.

Currently Brother Marcus is locked in fierce combat with brother Sirus, while Brothers Hector, Grecio, and Revian sit upon the top step of the dais cheering the two combatants on. As Glandril slowly approaches he can't help but think to himself how pathetically slow these so called masters actually move. It seems to him that the entire combat is moving in slow motion.

"Well, well, look who has decided to grace us with his presence!" Brother Hector says as he notices Glandril's approach. The sparing ceases. Which is a good thing for brother Sirus, for he was receiving a much worse beating than he was giving. "Good Morning," Glandril responds, stopping his approach a good 10 feet away. Brother Marcus, still running on an adrenaline rush and feeling superior after the beating he just administered to Sirus, says to Glandril, "Have you come to receive your morning whipping too?" Marcus sneers at Glandril who just softly smiles back.

Glandril has never participated in the master's sparing practices simply because these so called masters just don't present a challenge to him. Glandril perceives it as an adult being challenged by a small child. However his refusal to participate is perceived by the other masters as weakness, in no small part due to his physical appearance of being frail. However, with the humiliating events of this morning still fresh in his mind, Glandril badly wants to hit something. Or in this case someone. "Bring it on!" Glandril says, still smiling.

Brother Marcus, stunned by Glandril's unusual response and now feeling trapped, having been the one to issue the challenge, stutters, "ER...aha, I will try not to hurt you too bad." Taking a few steps forward. Brother Marcus goes into a fighting stance and slowly closes the distance between himself and Glandril, who just stands there with his arms at his side still smiling at Marcus invitingly.

In his minds eye Glandril has already played out the entire fight, anticipating every possible move Marcus can make. Marcus, now within 5 feet of Glandril rushes the last few feet launching into a flurry of punches that never even come close to connecting, because his target is no longer there. Glandril had pumped his legs once launching nearly 10 feet into the air, performed a flip over the top of Marcus' head and landed behind the master, kicking out backwards landing a punishing blow to Marcus' kidney. Stumbling forward and landing on his hands and knees, Marcus stays there for a moment on all fours while his bladder empties itself.

As the other 4 masters, whom are all now standing to get the best view of the fight as they can, realize that there is now a puddle forming around their fallen brother. The strong odor of urine begins to permeate the air and they begin to laugh. Marcus, however, now humiliated, begins to fill with anger and rage. He slowly regains his feet and turns to once again face Glandril.

"You FREAK!" Marcus growls out in rage. "I am going to make you sorry you were ever born." Glandril, still standing there with his arms at his sides whispers, "Too late, I already am." Marcus begins to stalk towards Glandril, who just stands there, knowing the fight was won the moment his opponent allowed rage to guide him.

Marcus again rushes the last few feet launching into a flying side kick designed to smash Glandril's face in. Without moving his feet, Glandril catches the foot with his right hand just inches from his face and lands a left jab into Marcus's groin. Collapsing to the ground, screaming in agony, Marcus curls up into a fetal position and begins to weep.

Glandril turns to face the remaining masters and calmly asks, "Where is the grand Master this morning?" All four masters quickly take up fighting stances, uncertain if Glandril intends to continue the fight with them. Hector responds, "He is waiting for you in his private study."

Glandril heads for the door behind the dais, choosing a path that will allow him to pass between the 4 masters. As he makes his way through them, he stops and feints an attack upon brother Grecio. All four brothers flinch and retreat away from him quickly. "Freak!", brother Hector mumbles, barely audible. Glandril laughs and continues towards the closed door in front of him. Leaving the shaking Masters in his wake to pick up their fallen brother.

As Glandril passes through to the Grand masters wing, he is flooded by memories of the past. He had cared deeply for the old Grand Master that resided here when he was brought here as a small child. Grand Master Meribar, the wisest and kindest human Glandril had ever known.

Meribar had taken Glandril in and raised him like his own son. It was Meribar who had arranged for the potions that to this day sustain him. It was Meribar who had taught him the noble path of the Monk. It was Meribar who had taught him to use his unearthly speed to compensate for his lacking strength, and it was Meribar that taught him the differences between wrong and right, and how to wisely choose between them.

But Meribar has been dead for almost a decade now. Glandril could have succeeded Meribar as the Grand Master had he chose to. But Glandril had no desire to involve himself in the human politics demanded by the position. So he didn't participate in the Melee Ceremonies that insure that only the best among them rule. That was just one of the many mistakes he has made in his miserable life. Meribar would roll over in his grave if he could see what his order has now become under the leadership of Barrachi.

Grand Master Barrachi, intelligent, shrewd, cunning, and a consummate politician, had gained the leadership of the order through means that Glandril considered questionable, if not outright unethical.

Now, a decade later, Glandril still has no desire to hold the position, even though both he and Barrachi know Glandril could easily defeat him and take leadership from him. However, Barrachi, ever suspicious, keeps a close eye on Glandril at all times and has placed around himself those monks whom he can control and manipulate. Like the 5 Masters whom he has just left behind in the Grand Hall. Definitely not masters by any measure of their skills. But they unquestioningly do Barrachi's bidding. Glandril also knows, although he doesn't care, that the recent lies and rumors circulating through the keep, about him, are Barrachi's work. Those 4 young initiates that Glandril trains daily, know the truth. They know the true Glandril, and that is all that matters to him.

Out of the corner of his eye Glandril sees movement. He quickly turns to face Barrachi. Glandril curses himself under his breath. He had been lost deep in his memories of his past and hadn't sensed Barrachi's entrance.

"Good morning pupil Glandril." Barrachi says in a sickly sweet tone, with an obviously false smile on his face. "Good morning to you also, Barrachi." Glandril replies coldly. "I have not given you permission to address me so informally!" Barrachi barks at him. "My sincere apologies, Grand Master Barrachi." Glandril says with a slight bow. Glandril locks eyes with him a moment. What is it he sees in Barrachi's eyes? Is it hatred? Glandril mentally shrugs it off. He simply doesn't care. "Why have you summoned me, Grand master Barrachi?" Glandril asks, biting back the sarcasm with which he intended.

Barrachi slowly walks over to one of the couches and sits down. "Please sit down, I have some matters with which I wish to discuss with you." Glandril sighs, he hoped he wouldn't have to be here long enough to have to sit. But talking is what politicians do best.

Glandril walks over and sits down on the same couch positioning himself close enough to Barrachi to hopefully make him uncomfortable. Barrachi begins to fidget and tries to place a little distance between them. "I am sure you are aware of the quake that reverberated through the mountain this morning?" Glandril feigns getting comfortable, closing the gap between them on the small couch. "Yes, I did take note of it." Glandril says, smiling to himself at Barrachi's obvious discomfort.

Barrachi stands up, and stretches, trying to hide his discomfort. Turning now to face Glandril. Towering over the still seated elf. "Our brothers who were on patrol last night were able to investigate before returning from their rounds." Feigning interest Glandril says, "I give, what caused the quake, Grand Master Barrachi?" Barrachi pauses for a moment in an attempt to build the anticipation. "Mountain Giants."

Taken by surprise by the answer, Glandril jumps to his feet, nearly knocking over Barrachi, "WHAT?" "That's right, I said Mountain Giants." Barrachi pretends to be gathering his thoughts as he moves away from Glandril, again obviously in discomfort at the close proximity of the freak.

"Your brothers didn't confront them for they were outnumbered. They reported that the northern most mine was totally collapsed by the giants killing or trapping all the miners inside." Barrachi now begins to pace. "They also reported that the group of Giants, a half dozen by their count." He pauses, looking closely at Glandril trying to gage how best to bait him. "Marched westward down the mountainside, headed for Bristledale."

Glandril takes a few steps toward the Grand Master. "We must sound the alarm. Rally the monks and stop them immediately." Barrachi smiles to himself, knowing he has successfully baited Glandril.

"NO! There are fewer than 50 monks residing within these walls. I am not willing to endanger the young initiates that I have been given responsibility for, nor will I leave this keep unmanned and defenseless. I want you to take your group of initiates on a field training exercise to track and monitor this group of giants. If they are a threat to Bristledale, then, and only then, will I raise the alarm."

Glandril ponders this for a few moments. What is Barrachi up to? If the giants are really headed for the human settlement they call Bristledale, wouldn't it be wiser to send out the masters to deal with them? A training exercise? More like a suicide mission, if the giants detect them. Well, he will just have to make sure the giants don't spot his small group. "I am not sure this is the wisest course of action, Grand Master." Glandril says after a few moments.

Barrachi gets visibly angry. "Are you questioning my wisdom? Are you refusing to follow a direct order from YOUR master?" Glandril sighs, "I will do as you command. May I be dismissed, Grand Master?" already turning and walking towards the door, not waiting for Barrachi's response. The Grand Master doesn't answer him, he just stands there watching Glandril leave.

After the door closes, Barrachi stands there for a few minutes. "Farewell you freak, and good riddance! I wish I could watch those giants crush you." Barrachi walks back to the couch, pours himself a goblet of wine from the decanter set on the table near by. He sits down and looses himself in his fantasies of Glandril's imminent demise. In less than an hours time, Glandril and his four young pupils, Orha, Titus, Sloan, and Fromp are making their way westward down the mountain. Moving fast, in an attempt to catch up to the Giants, before they reach the valley floor.

**_Chapter 2: Nightmoon_**

Back in Bristledale, it has been nearly three hours since the town guard sent out a group of 4 soldiers to investigate the cause of the quake. The women of Bristledale continue their daily chores, working on the community lunch. They work listlessly, their minds occupied with thought of their men folk up in the mines. The children continue their games seemingly unconcerned, lost in the ignorance of youth, unable to fully understand the possible tragedy that the quake could represent.

One child in particular, a scrawny little girl with long snow white hair streaked with silver, and large ice blue eyes, dressed in the same dirty pants and tunic she has worn for nearly a month now. She is 4'5" tall and approximately 50 pounds soaking wet. For all appearances, she seems to be 10 or 11 years old. However, she is closer to 30 years old. She is a half-elf. Her mother is human but her father was an Elven adventurer. She is the product of a one night stand during the festival of the Harvest nearly three decades ago.

Her mother died this past winter at the age of 55. She never recovered from a bad case of pneumonia that overcame her nearly two months ago. Her father hasn't been seen in these parts of the realm since that night. Being an adventurer he is probably dead by now. Even if he was still alive, and out there somewhere, he doesn't even know she exists.

Her mother named her Beverly. However only her mother called her by that name. She is Nightmoon. After her mothers passing, Nightmoon was placed into a group home set up and ran by Mother Clairette to house the orphaned children of Bristledale. Although Mother Clairette is a good hearted and good intentioned woman, she is overwhelmed. Her orphanage currently houses nearly 30 children of all ages.

Last month, while Nightmoon slept, She was accosted by one of the older boys. She had repeatedly shot down his advances and she thought he got the message that she didn't like him. She was naive. He tried to take from her what she had refused to give. Nightmoon had been luck that night. Mother Clairette had been up caring for a few sick children and had overheard the scuffle. Clairette's abrupt appearance into the room had surprised her attacker enough that Nightmoon was able to escape. She exited through the window and disappeared into the night. She has never been back there since. This last month has been very hard on Nightmoon. She managed to find shelter in Rancher Stanton's stables. Sleeping with the ponies in the hay piles. Drinking fresh water out of the horses trough.

Food, however has been an entirely different problem. She never misses the communal lunches which are free to everyone. However, growing girls need more than one meager meal a day. Nightmoon has gotten quite skilled at hiding, sneaking about unseen and stealing whatever she needs to survive. In fact, she is currently sitting in the shadows under a fruit cart enjoying an apple she just helped herself to off of Farmer Dean's fruit cart. No one notices her and she seems content with her apple.

"What is that smell?" farmer Dean asks one lady purchasing some fresh berries and a melon. He wrinkles his nose and leans forward to see if the odor is coming from his customer. "smells like," sniff, sniff, "Horse manure!" The lady, now realizing he is scrutinizing her, gets very offended. "Well...I never!..." as she drops the fruit back onto the cart and stomps away angrily. Farmer Dean, now perplexed says, "and you never will, smellin like that lady!"

After a few moments, realizing the foul odor didn't leave with the lady, he follows his nose to the crawl space under his cart. "Well, well...what do we have here?", as he spies Nightmoon sitting there eating one of his apples. She stops chewing and smiles at him with an expression of innocence on her face. As he begins to reach for her she instinctively bites his hand and darts out from under the cart not even looking back to see if he is pursuing her.

Holding his now sore hand farmer Dean yells, "Come back here you little thief! Guards, stop her, she stole from me!" Nearby, two town guards, who were busy flirting with Fletcher Hendrick's twin daughters at an archery stand close by, turn and look at farmer Dean then look in the direction he is pointing. They see a brief glimpse of Nightmoon as she darts around the Blacksmiths stall.

They quickly rush after her. Nightmoon, having made the corner, slides to the ground and squeezes herself into a small space beneath the blacksmiths stall. The guards rush by without stopping. She lies there for a few moments, thinking how cunning she is. Then she squirms out of her hiding spot and nonchalantly begins to walk away. From behind her she hears, "There she is!" She glances back over her shoulder and now sees 4 guards pursuing her.

The chase is on. Nightmoon, small, sleek and fast realizes she isn't having any trouble outdistancing the guards who are being slowed by their bulky half plate armor and the crowds. She pulls up short, turns to face the guards, sticks out her tongue, puts her thumbs in her ears and wiggles her fingers. Taunting them. The guards slow down, and she realizes they are smiling at her. She notices that one of them is looking past her at something. She feels strong hands on her shoulders and begins to panic. Without looking behind her she quickly darts down and to her left, wriggling between the legs of a woman passing by. she regains her feet and begins to run again. She chances a look back over her shoulder. There are now 6 guards after her. She begins to worry. At this rate it wont be long before the entire town guard is after her. She glances around her looking for an escape.

Up ahead she sees one of the small arches built into the town wall for pedestrian traffic. She believes if she can get out of the town and into the nearby groves of fruit trees she may be able to elude her pursuers. She sprints towards the archway. The sound of the guards behind her gets louder, they seem to be gaining on her. She is running on instinct now, thinking to herself, what's all the fuss about anyway...it was only one apple? She clears the archway and she sees ahead of her two massive stone pillars. Without stopping she dashes between them and looks over her shoulders to see how close her pursuers are.

They come rushing through the archway and suddenly pull up short. They all have looks of shock and horror on their faces. They quickly draw their swords. Nightmoon thinks to herself, hey! the swords aren't necessary, it was only a darn apple! Then she realizes the two pillars she ran between are wearing boots made from fur. She allows her eyes to move up the pillars. She can't believe what she is seeing. those are not pillars. They are legs! Mountain Giant's legs!

She is paralyzed with fear as a strong feeling of dread settles over her. She watches in abject horror as a massive hammer comes crashing down, utterly crushing two of the guards where they stood. The impact shaking the ground and causing the remaining four guards to scatter. One of the guards manages to score a hit on the foot of the giant. Not even a scratch.

From her right she sees a massive spiked club come smashing down onto that guards head. He crumbles to the ground like a dropped sack of potatoes. She manages to shake off the momentary paralysis and realizes she is standing in a forest of stone pillars. She lets out a whimper and begins to run again. Behind her she can hear the death screams of the remaining guards and the horns blaring from the town alarm. She continues to allow her instincts to guide her as she darts around the giants legs.

She feels an explosion on the ground to her right. She realizes that she is no longer running. She is airborne, the impact of one of the giants massive hammers having barely missed her, set her flying, then she feels pain. All the air rushes out of her as she comes crashing down hard onto the ground. Chunks of earth landing all around her. She is stunned and cant seem to breath. She manages to roll over onto her back just in time to see the sun blacked out by a descending foot. She knows she is doomed, but the only thought going through her head is...it was only one darned apple! She squeezes her eyes shut, waiting for the end. She feels herself being lifted off the ground and the rush of wind in her ears.

After a moment, she opens her eyes and is staring into the face of an angel. She blinks rapidly a few times to clear her vision. What a strange looking angel, she thinks to herself. Milky white skin, gaunt face, bald head, and those piercing pink eyes. It speaks. "Don't worry my child. You are safe now". She stares into his eyes for a moment and all fear and doubt leave her. She can still hear the roar of battle all around her but she feels safe, as if she is in a cocoon where none of the chaos raging around her can enter. After what seems like an eternity, he gently sets he down onto the ground, leaning against the outside wall of the town. "Stay still and quiet and do not move from this spot", he whispers. Then he seems to disappear right before her eyes.

From this distance she can now see the battle raging nearly 100 yards away. The Angel who had swooped down out of heaven and rescued her from certain death was closing fast on the nearest giant. He was almost a blur to her, moving so fast he had to be an angel, nothing of this world could possibly move that fast. She watches in awe as her savior literally runs up the giants legs and back as if it was level ground, coming to a stop at the giants shoulders. She barely perceives the slashes of his Adamant kukri's as they open the giants neck just below both of his ears.

Then he was gone again. She watches the giant standing there, with a bewildered look on his stone face. He drops his Massive ax to the ground and slowly reaches for his neck. He pulls his hands away from his torn neck and just stands there staring at his blood covered hands as he realizes his life is over. The Giant, nearly 4 times taller than the 20 foot town walls, staggers for a moment then topples over like a felled tree. Crashing through a nearby section of the town wall and crushing a guard whom had been hiding behind the wall.

**_Chapter 3: Dilemmas_**

As Glandril and his young initiates rush down the mountainside, they realize that they aren't going to catch the giants. They are already assaulting the town. Glandril rushes towards an outcropping of rocks that will allow him to get a good view of the towns dilemma.

From this vantage point, the situation looks very bad. The half dozen giants they were pursuing is actually a score and they are nearly upon the towns walls. He stands there for a moment, wondering what he and his small group could possibly do against such overwhelming odds. It will take his group nearly 10 minutes to even reach the battlefield.

Then he sees what appears to be a small child running out through an opening in the town walls and straight into the ranks of the giants. He witnesses the arrival of the pursuing guards and their quick and brutal deaths.

Glandril gasps as he watches one of the giants land a crushing blow that barely misses the child. The impact launches the child nearly 30 feet, landing hard at the feet of another of the giants who proceeds to stomp her into the ground.

To Glandril's sensibilities this is totally unacceptable. Soldiers dying in the defense of their homes is honorable. But he can't stand here and watch a child be murdered by these monsters.

He allows his mind to fall into himself, reaching for his Ki. That inner power that separate initiates from true masters. He calls upon one power his former master taught him while he was still alive.

He called it Abundant Step. This ability allows a Master Monk to instantly transport himself any distance he can visibly see. He wills himself to the child's side. With lightning fast reflexes he snatches up the child and spirits her away to a spot outside the active battlefield. He places her softly onto the ground allowing the nearby wall to support her. He tells her to stay put and dashes off, back towards the doomed town. The screams of women and children are overriding all rational thought. His rational mind is telling him that one elf charging 20 mountain giants is suicide. But he is beyond rational thought now. He must stop this atrocity. Or die trying.  
As he sprints across the field, closing fast upon the back of the nearest giant, he draws his kukris, which are really nothing more than daggers with a curved blade designed for slashing rather than piercing. He begins to realize the true magnitude of his situation. How can he possibly harm something so big, with skin as hard as mountain stone, with such tiny weapons.

He quickly searches his brain for a solution. He remembers his lessons about combat verse giants his former master taught him. Their anatomy really isn't any different than that of a man, just much larger. A fatal wound for a man is also fatal for a giant. Except their skin is as tough as stone, or armor. Performing a mental rundown of all the possible ways to kill a man wearing full plate armor with a single strike, he realizes what he must do.

Glandril again draws upon his inner Ki, producing a sudden burst of super human speed. He changes direction, running vertically up the giant as easily as anyone else would simply turn right or left. When he reaches the giants shoulders, Glandril summons his strength and slashes hard and deep into the giants neck on both sides just below his ears, severing the major arteries that supply blood to the brain.

As Glandril, standing on the giants shoulders, nearly 80 feet off the ground, spots his next target, Another giant standing approximately 50 feet away. He leaps into the air. This next giant was standing there perplexed, wondering why Jaral, his cousin, was falling over. He feels a few pin pricks in his chest. Glances down and can't believe his eyes. There appears to be something crawling up his chest. He blinks a few times to clear his vision.

That was a fatal mistake. In the few seconds it took him to blink, Glandril had scaled the mountain. Hand over hand, digging the kukris in, using them like a mountain climber uses picks. In those few seconds, this giant shares the same fate as his cousin.

Two giants down in as many minutes.

Glandril hears more screams and his eyes are drawn towards that direction. One giant, who had stepped over the puny town wall was now stomping women and children into the dirt like grapes in a wine press.

As the giant whose shoulders Glandril is standing on, begins to topple forward, Glandril rides him all the way to the ground, jumps off at the last possible moment and goes into a roll that places him just a few feet away from this next giant.

Glandril is immediately forced to tumble away rapidly to avoid becoming just another grape, as the giants foot comes crashing down where just a second ago he had been standing. Coming out of the roll and to his feet in one fluid motion, Glandril launches into a flurry of blows against the giants Achilles tendon.

He knows he didn't do a lot of damage, but hopefully it was enough. Glandril again goes into a roll, diving between the giants legs and comes to his feet in front of the giant and he begins to taunt this one.

"Hey!" he yells at the top of his lungs. "Down here! You missed me twice now! You move like a clumsy troll! Which makes sense since your father was one! In fact you smell like a troll too!"

The giant, now focused on the puny elf raises his foot and brings it down with all his weight behind it in an attempt to crush this little pest once and for all. At the last moment Glandril tumbles backwards easily getting out of the way. Glandril smiles to himself as his sensitive Elven ears allow him to hear the damaged tendon rip apart under the full weight of the giant.

As Glandril realizes he has got to get moving unless he wants to be crushed under this falling giant, he turns on his heels and sprints away. Running straight towards another giant approximately 80 feet away, who has his massive spiked club raised over his head, intending to splatter Glandril as soon as he gets close enough.

Glandril slows himself down a bit, trying to get the timing perfect. As the giant behind him comes crashing to the ground the giant in front of him brings his club crashing down with enough force to split the ground wide open. Glandril again changes direction, turning 90 degrees to the left, and then stops and turns around just in time to witness the Spiked club shatter the skull of the falling giant.

Three down. Seventeen to go.

Off in the distance, back outside the walls. Glandril hears the familiar battle cries of his order. His initiates have engaged the giants in battle. He rushes back the direction he came from. Back through the wall and into the dwindling forest of giants legs.

Around him he can see the few remaining town guard spread out in small groups fighting in tight formations. Ganging up on one giant at a time. Like a pack of hungry wolves. Their Great swords and halberd pole arms dealing significantly greater wounds than his tiny kukris. The group to his immediate left have managed to completely hack through an ankle of one giant, bringing it crashing to the ground. They once again set upon the now prone giant like a pack of wolves. Using their large blades to shred apart this giant inch by inch.

Four down. Sixteen to go.

Glandril runs on. He must rejoin his initiates. He sprints towards the base of the mountain, at the far end of the battlefield, where they were most likely to have entered the battle. He deftly sidesteps a descending mace, narrowly avoiding being crushed. Weaving in and out of giant's legs. As he rushes past one particular giant he glimpses his students each engaging a different giant. He watches in abject horror as Titus is scooped up by a giant, and immediately squashed like an over ripe tomato. Glandril charges in. He is screaming, but unaware of it. He is consumed by rage. As he reaches the giant, still clutching the now lifeless body of one of his students, He once again allows his mind to fall into himself. He calls upon one of the greatest feats a monk can ever attain. The Quivering Palm.

This most powerful of all Ki abilities allows a master monk, once every 7 days, to create powerful vibrations within any living creature. The Ki energy wraps itself around the heart, and at any time within the next 15 days, the Master monk can Will that creature's heart to stop beating. Ending it's life.

Glandril, still screaming in rage, anger, and hatred, Strikes the giant with all his strength. Normally, a Mountain giant's great fortitude would be unsurmountable for such an attempt. However, the Ki force Glandril releases, fueled by blind rage, creates such a shock wave in the giant that, starting in his foot, and slowly traveling up the giant, the sounds of shattering bones can be heard. "DIE!", Glandril screams. However he can barely be heard over the death wails of this giant as every bone in his body shatters like glass, then his heart explodes in his chest. He topples sideways, beginning to fall. He is dead long before he hits the ground.

Five down, Fifteen to go.

As Glandril watches the falling giant, his stomach knots in dread. Orha, not 50 feet away from him, is scrambling for his very life. Just barely managing to dodge his giant's stomping feet and descending club. He is completely unaware of the danger falling fast upon him. Glandril screams " Orha, WATCH OUT!" Hearing his Master's voice, Orha first looks at Glandril, then up, as a massive shadow passes over him. Glandril hears his muffled scream as he is completely buried under the chest of the giant Glandril just killed. He feels directly responsible for Orha's death. Sorrow and guilt begin to overwhelm him. He forces himself to focus. He still has two students alive and in desperate need of him.

Ignoring the giant directly in front of him, Glandril scans the nearby battlefield in search of his two remaining students. He sees Fromp, weaving in and out of one giant's legs. He is using his rope to entangle the giant's feet. Glandril feels a surge of pride as he witnesses his pupil's ingenuity topple a giant. His pride quickly disappears into a bottomless pit of despair, as Glandril watch a stone boulder, the size of a small house, comes crashing down on Fromp.

Glandril allows his eyes to retrace the arc of that boulder. Standing upon the same outcropping of rocks that he had earlier stood, He sees three giants. They each have boulders of comparable size hoisted over their heads, picking their targets carefully. Glandril once again recalls his formal training about giants and remembers being warned of their deadly accuracy with boulder throwing. He watches all three boulders fly. Each landing precisely where tossed. One boulder lands at the feet of a giant. Utterly crushing the 4 town guards that were attacking him in a tight formation. The second boulder, levels a two story home, utterly destroying that home. While the third, squarely hits a large group of guards who were forming a line of defense against two giants attempting to enter the town through a breech in the wall. Killing several and scattering the rest. Allowing the giants to charge through that portion of collapsed wall unobstructed.

Glandril quickly realizes that if these three giants are allowed to continue, the battle is lost. As he sees them each pick up another boulder, he races off in their direction, intending to run up the cliff face in the same manner he ran up the first giant. From their high vantage point, all 3 giants see his rapid advance and each target him. Only Glandril's lightning fast reflexes saved his life that day. The boulders came at him in rapid succession. Glandril dives forward into a roll, narrowly missing being flattened as the first boulder lands where he should have been had he continued running. Coming out of the roll and into a full run again, Glandril realizes he isn't going to be able to dodge the second boulder so he leaps into the air, attempting to high jump over this huge projectile. Again his superior speed and dexterity allow him to easily clear this hurdle. However the third giant must have been the smart one. His boulder came in high. Too high.

As Glandril sailed through the air easily clearing the second boulder the third clipped him hard across the lower half of his body, sending him into uncontrollable somersaults. His forward motion hurtling him head over heels towards the face of the cliff at break neck speed. Glandril knows his left leg is broken because of the excruciating pain. However, that pain is nothing compared to the pain that now rushes through his entire body and overwhelms all of his senses as he slams into the mountain wall. He can visibly see the total blackness of oblivion engulfing him as he falls to the ground now. The air rushing by him. As he lands hard on the ground, he is entirely swallowed by the encroaching darkness of unconsciousness.


End file.
